


Can I Sleep With You?

by Lady_of_Lorule



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, Nightmares, Teen Titans as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Lorule/pseuds/Lady_of_Lorule
Summary: “Dick? What is it? Are you okay?” he asked.“‘Had a nightmare,” the boy murmured, wiping at his nose quickly, then sending a darting look at Bruce. “Can I...can I sleep with you?”
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Teen Titans
Comments: 15
Kudos: 386
Collections: Dick & Bruce, Dick & Damian, Dick & The Titans, everybody loves dick





	Can I Sleep With You?

Bruce was having serious doubts about his spur of the moment decision to take in a heavily traumatized eight year old boy. He didn’t feel like an adult himself, most days, and he had never had experience working with kids, as an only child. But now Dick Grayson was living in his house and was Bruce’s legal responsibility. The very thought made him shiver.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Dick would just admit that he wasn’t okay. He wasn’t eating, not even when Alfred tempted with his most prized dishes. He wasn’t sleeping, not even when Bruce had slipped him a mild drug. And he wouldn’t talk. He would respond when spoken to, sure, but otherwise he was silent as a mouse. And when Bruce tried to ask if he was hungry, Dick just shook his head. When he tried to convince him to sleep, he would just reply that he wasn’t tired. Dick was trying to pretend that he was fine, he was trying to convince Bruce and Alfred of it, but none of them were fooled.

It didn’t matter that Bruce was aware of any of this, though, if he couldn’t  _ do  _ something to fix it.

It was nearing three in the morning when Bruce stumbled into his bedroom after a long night of patrolling. He was weary, not from his vigilante activity, but from Alfred’s report that Dick had neglected dinner.  _ Again.  _ He was weary in a way that came from the unique feeling of helplessness and responsibility, and he didn’t know how to combat it, other than calling a social worker and admitting that he’d screwed up, that they needed to find someone better, someone more qualified to take care of Dick, but he couldn’t. Not after how horribly he’d seen the system treat Dick.

He pulled on pajamas absently and climbed into bed, sinking into the mattress with a groan. Maybe his head would be clearer in the morning. Maybe he’d come up with a solution to help Dick in his dreams. Maybe Dick would actually sleep tonight and not wake up screaming and he’d want to eat tomorrow and everything would be fine.

His eyelids fell within seconds and he was hovering on the cusp on sleep when a small noise jolted him awake, honed from his training. He was upright and prepared for a fight before he was consciously aware of moving. His eyes skimmed the dark room and narrowed in on the door being cracked open, and the small figure that slipped inside. He sighed and released his tension.

“Dick? What is it? Are you okay?” he asked, concern replacing readiness. He hadn’t heard screaming, but that didn’t rule out the possibility of a nightmare.

God, Dick looked so tiny standing in the doorway in his pajamas. He was already small for his age, but the dim lighting and the soft, slightly too big clothes only made it worse. And his eyes were just so huge and so blue, somehow still so innocent, despite the horrors they had seen.

“‘Had a nightmare,” he murmured, wiping at his nose quickly, then sending a darting look at Bruce. “Can I...can I sleep with you?”

His heart hammered in his chest, but there was only one answer. “Of course. Come on.”

Bruce slid back into his now tangled sheets. Dick drifted over like a wraith, practically disappearing into the soft mattress and the layered blankets, before surfacing next to Bruce. The child easily fitted himself against Bruce’s side, small fingers grasping his nightshirt, before he could even think of how to position himself. He settled for adjusting to Dick, wrapping an arm over him and tucking him in.

This close, he could see the tear stains on Dick’s face. He was surprised he hadn’t heard him crying, but he had been preoccupied. Still, it only took Dick minutes to fall asleep, and in slumber he looked peaceful, more peaceful than Bruce had seen him look yet. He fidgeted, even asleep, and that made Bruce smile, though he was careful not to jostle the boy.

Somehow, Dick being there made it easier for him to sleep too.

After that first night, he often found Dick in his bed, nightmare or no nightmare. And secretly, he looked forward to those nights immensely.

…

Titans Tower is both wonderful and awkward.

On one hand, living with a group of best friends all your age with minimal to no adult supervision has it’s obvious perks. The Tower itself is wonderful, too, high tech and luxurious. Really, what else could teenage superheroes ask for?

But on the other hand, living with friends has its downsides.

Sharing a bathroom can be incredibly inconvenient. Sure, there are multiple bathrooms in the Tower, but only one in the residential area, which everyone wants to claim for themselves. Wally and Roy even get into a physical fight over who gets to shower first in the first week they move in. Then, there’s the continuing annoyance of people making messes and not cleaning up after themselves, of which they are all guilty of more than once, but Roy in particular is a frequent offender, followed closely by Donna. Dishes, chores, and other general things are another source of contention.

The Titans nearly don’t make it through their first week living together. They nearly decide to give up on the Tower and go back to occasional meet-ups, but then Dick works his magic.

He orders a movie night, hoping that some fun and levity will bring down tension in the Tower. They all agree, more than willing to delay the inevitable serious conversations that need to happen. Dick ends up on the couch, squished between Garth and Roy, with Wally sitting on the floor leaning against his legs and Donna on Roy’s other side. They have popcorn and hot chocolate and blankets and pillows and terrible action movies that they use to criticize the terribly choreographed fight scenes. It’s fun and familiar, no drama or threat or lingering anger to ruin the mood.

Dick lets himself fall asleep right there, content that his friends are getting along and not about to storm away. His head falls onto Roy’s shoulder with his legs spread across Garth’s lap and his hand hanging over the edge to touch Wally’s shoulder. It takes a while for the Titans to notice he’s fallen asleep.

Cue confusion and alarm. None of them dare move for fear of waking him, despite how uncomfortable some of their positions are, and they don’t want to risk talking either. Donna grabs the remote and gradually lowers the volume so that the loud explosions don’t disturb him either. In silent agreement, they all continue on as if nothing was happening.

Donna’s asleep by the end of the movie, her head cushioned on Roy’s other shoulder. The archer doesn’t seem upset with the arrangement, settling back against the couch and tipping his head back, eyes shut, seemingly intending to go to sleep right then and there rather than wake either of his teammates. Garth and Wally, although both able to slip away if they desired without waking anyone, both stay, pilling up pillows and blankets and closing their eyes.

They all wake up in the morning in a confusing and comfortable tangle of limbs and sheets, the TV still on, playing the movie on loop.

After that, they work with renewed effort to address the rules of living in the Tower and doling out responsibilities.

It doesn’t end there, though. It becomes common for the Titans to come across their leader asleep in odd places at odd times. Roy carries him from the practice mats to his bed after finding him passed out there in the middle of the afternoon. Donna drapes a blanket over Dick as he snores in the chair for their control hub. Wally joins him in a nap on the roof in the early hours of the morning, the sun barely risen over the horizon. Garth sets up an umbrella to protect him from the sun when he falls asleep on the beach near the Tower while watching the Atlantean play with a pod of dolphins. It becomes a running joke among them that Dick can sleep anywhere, anytime, as long as it’s not on a bed at night.

They will all vehemently deny that they adopted his strange sleeping habits, even when the Justice League finds them taking a group nap in the training room instead of reviewing a case the League wanted their help on.

…

Wayne Manor might as well not have any doors for how the family completely disregards them. Personal boundaries are an unfamiliar and nebulous concept to the vigilantes. Luckily, they each have their own bathrooms connected to their rooms, so little drama in that department. However, bedroom doors, open or closed, are frequently ignored in favor of barging in, which has led to more than one instance of catching each other naked, making out, or both. Dick, in particular, should really learn to stop bringing his dates back to the Manor when his brothers are home.

Still, the doors stay, more as a formality than anything. Alfred reasons that it would be rather difficult to explain why they don’t have doors to guests when he hears Tim and Dick joking about it.

Sometimes, however, the disregard for privacy comes in handy.

Damian was trapped in some nightmare, nebulous and frightening. In his bed, he thrashed and whimpered, but did not wake. In his mind, vague figures and menacing shadows chased him, indistinct but no less terrifying for it.

Then hands were on his shoulders, shaking him roughly. On instinct, he thrashed, striking at the midsection of his attacker, but hit only air. His eyes flew open to recognize a male shape bending unnaturally to avoid the blow. He only knew one person who could be so flexible.

“Grayson,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, and succeeding if not for the gasping breaths he was taking. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You were having a nightmare,” his older brother responded, sitting on the edge of his bed, his blue eyes luminous in the moonlight. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, sitting up on his bed, drawing his legs up to his chest. Dick nodded, and the light hit his face better, allowing Damian to see the dark circles beneath his eyes and haggard look on his face. “You look terrible, though. When was the last time you slept?”

He shrugged. “Two days ago. I’ve been busy.”

He frowned. “Why are you still up? Go sleep. I’m fine. It was just a nightmare.”

He hated admitting even that small bit of weakness, but it stung less around Grayson. He would never give the satisfaction to Drake or Todd, but Grayson was different. And much, much harder to fool. He was the only one who bothered to look past Damian’s prickly exterior.

However, Grayson didn’t leave to get much needed sleep. Instead, almost shyly, he said, “Would you mind if I stayed?”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “You want to share my bed when your room is literally next door?”

“You can say no.”

He hesitated. He didn’t  _ want  _ to say no, despite how odd the request was. But it was Grayson, who was clearly exhausted and who came running the second he heard Damian’s distress, despite his own troubles.

“Fine,” Damian acquiesced, scooting over on the large bed to make space for his brother and settling back down.

He didn’t even have to look up to know that Dick was grinning. He shut his eyes and prepared to fall back into (a hopefully dreamless) sleep. The sound of Dick pulling off his jeans and climbing into the bed disturbed him for a moment, before the room plunged back into a peaceful silence. Damian expected that would be the end of that and let his mind drift.

However, he felt an arm cross over his bed, tugging him closer to a warm mass. He fought for a second, then relaxed as he realized it was just Grayson using him as a human sized teddy bear. He rolled his eyes. He should have expected Grayson would be a cuddler. He’d certainly subjected him to an ungodly amount of hugs when they’d been partners. Grayson radiated heat, chasing away the chill of his nightmare, and the arm draped across his torso was comforting, although Damian couldn’t explain why.

He fell asleep quickly, and slept dreamlessly, secure in Grayson’s arms.


End file.
